


Buffy Is Well Bre(a)d

by stormish



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Homework, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormish/pseuds/stormish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy and Willow are on a roll - literally.   They're in a bread factory, and in a vat of dough they have discovered a vampire.  Should they bake him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buffy Is Well Bre(a)d

**Author's Note:**

> This is all in fun. Don't punch me if it offends you.

"It smells fantastic in here," says Willow.  "Like croissants, and my grandma's house, and that Cinnabon place at the mall. This is kinda like _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ , but, like, with bread."

"Yeah," says Buffy, twirling a piece of hair, "you're Augustus Gloop, and I'm Veruca Salt.  I could go on," she says, glancing over at Willow, "but the air in here's like, totally messing with my perm.  I'm like completely frizzy today.  I shoulda just stayed in bed."

"The staff of life does not respect bad hair days," says Willow, "you should really be a little less shallow, Buffy.  Since you're the Slayer, it would become you to quit worrying so much about your hair and makeup.'

"But Willow - "

Buffy's objection is cut short when the two girls, standing by a kneading machine full of puffy white dough, see a bloody hand emerging from the center of the squeezing pale mass.

"Omigod!" shouts Buffy.

"It's a vampire hand," says Willow, "I can tell, cause the nails are _perfect_."

//

It takes half an hour, and considerable messing up of the hair, for the two girls to extract the vampire from the kneading machine, and when he emerges, he's covered with flour and white and greasy as a new baby.  The paleness of his complexion is accentuated by the floury powder that covers him, and he looks like a piece of about-to-be-baked bread.

"Hi," says Willow, holding out her hand, "I'm Willow.  And this is Buffy."

The vampire says nothing, but glares at the two of them.

"I'm a sourdough batard," says the vampire, "and I'm still rising.  So if you don't mind, I'd like to jump back into the kneading machine so that I can get on with the artisanal fermentation process."

"Not so fast!" shouts Willow, blocking his path with her skinny white leg.  He's still sticky from the big drum, and he trips over her foot, which is clad in a Doc Marten boot that Buffy convinced her to buy last week to beef up her butch.  She's been hoping to get a date with Ms. Axel, the new girl who's into leather and rides a motorbike.

He lands on the ground in a whitish heap.  Buffy pokes him with her foot, giving him a delicate little experimental kick, and when he doesn't move, she rifles through his pockets.  From his vest pocket, she pulls out a laminated faculty ID card:

Dr. Edward Weyland, Ph.D.  
Anthropology Department  
University of New Mexico

"I've heard of this guy," says Buffy, "he really gets around.  He's been shot by a crazy South African lady; held as an exhibit in a petting zoo; psychoanalyzed by a therapist with some serious boundary issues; taken to the opera; and befriended by a suicidal colleague and a graduate student who's got daddy issues."

"Wow," says Willow, "taken to the opera.  That'd totally drive me over the edge."

"Well yeah," says Buffy, "you know, he's really a good person, he just has some issues.  He had a hard time growing up and he's not handling the aging process very well.

She dips one finger into the big rotating bowl and digs out a clot of dough, which she pokes slowly and sensuously into her mouth.  Willow makes a face.

"Mmm," Buffy says, "you know how I love to lick the bowl."

Willow glares at her.  Buffy's always leading her on like this - evil straight girl - she knows Willow's had a thing for her for years.

"So, the vampire," says Buffy, licking her lips lasciviously, " - last I heard he was hibernating for awhile.  I guess he must have woken up hungry or something."

The vampire groans and turns his head to the side.  Below his ear, underneath his curling and surprisingly long dark hair, Willow and Buffy can see a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants.

"Shoot," said Buffy.  

"But not at me," said Willow.

Buffy smiles.  "It seems so, well, warm and fuzzy.  I'd expect him to have something like a skull and crossbones. Or a head of garlic or something.  Spongebob?"

"It's a trap," says Willow, "designed to disarm you."

No sooner are the words out of her mouth than the vampire leaps to his feet, flour sifting around him like a white halo.  He leaps nearly chest-high, like some kind of forest animal, over the metal rim of the kneading bowl and vanishes with a sucking sound into the oozing, swirling mass of creamy dough.

"I hate the ones that get away," says Willow.  "So whatdya say we follow him?"

"Into the dough?" says Buffy, incredulous.  "But my hair!"

"No, asshole," says Willow patiently, "I mean let's follow him through the process and see if we can get him baked into a piece of bread."

"Willow, you know that we've got to ram a stake into his heart if we want to kill him!" shrieks Buffy.

Willow tucks her chin down and gives Buffy a slow sideways smile.  

"This factory, I just happen to know, manufactures communion wafers," says Willow.  "I think if we can steer him past the sourdough ovens and over by where the Rabbi's blessing the matzoh, we might have a chance of getting him baked into something more like flesh than blood."

"Keeeewwwwwl," says Buffy, "lead on, sister."

//

 

TBC


End file.
